


Revelation

by Stormraven24



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Body Worship, F/M, Kentress - Freeform, Obiress, Obisajj, Shared Orgasm, Stripping, Submissive Male, Teasing, Ventrobi - Freeform, dominant female, even the Force approves of this ship!, tattoo worship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-12
Updated: 2016-03-12
Packaged: 2018-05-26 05:16:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6225457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stormraven24/pseuds/Stormraven24
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Obi-Wan is obsessed with discovering the extent of Asajj's tattoos. He's certainly not disappointed when he finally gets to find out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Revelation

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SpaceCommander](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpaceCommander/gifts).



> This entire piece was inspired by [this absolutely STUNNING artwork](http://intergalacticteaparty.tumblr.com/post/116313672611/halp-my-hand-slipped-for-4-evenings-i-blame) by my very good friend [intergalacticteaparty](http://intergalacticteaparty.tumblr.com/). She made it months ago and I started this fic and...yeah, I finally finished it tonight nearly a year after she made it @_@ I suck at finishing things in a timely manner, but here it is.

The knot that had formed in his gut seemed to double in size with every inch of that lovely pale skin that was revealed to his gaze. Deep purple lines and curves decorated more of her flesh than he'd imagined...and he'd spent many an hour imagining just what lay beneath those skintight clothes. She shifted enticingly when he slowly pulled the last of her protective wrappings from her waist; she was doing a marvelous job of shaking his self-control with the barest movement and she knew it. He could see the side of her mouth turned up in what could only be a smirk. Every inch of her posture oozed with self-satisfaction and smug pride that wasn't entirely undeserved. She had broken through his focus and restraint without even trying. All she'd had to do was deny him a closer look at the art that adorned her flesh and he'd become obsessed. It had become a personal mission to see just how far those tattoos extended, just how lovingly they hugged her body.

And now she was allowing him to see how his imaginings compared to reality. The reality was far better than anything he could have ever conjured in his head.

“Well, what do you think, my dear?” The smoky sound of her voice snapped him out of his thoughts. The way the muscles of her back shifted when she leaned forward over the counter entranced him.

Words wouldn't come just yet; they stuck in his throat each time he tried. Instead, he touched a dark purple line that started at her shoulder blade with a fingertip. He followed its curve down to her hip, pleased that she couldn't quite conceal her shiver. “Beautiful,” he finally managed to whisper.

She hummed and shifted again, her back arching as she planted her elbows on the countertop and rested her chin on her hands. “Do they live up to your expectations?”

Another one close to her spine drew his attention. He traced that one, too, then spread his hand flat on the jointed spiral below her other shoulder blade. “Oh yes,” he breathed. The warmth of her skin under his palm was intoxicating. “Even more so.”

She chuckled. “Glad you approve.” She slowly raised herself off the counter to stand straight. “But” -he froze when she gently grasped his hands and drew them to the tantalizingly low waist of her skirt- “wouldn't you like to see _all_ of them?”

He tried to keep his hands from shaking as she directed them around to the catch of her belt. He failed in that, but he did succeed in unfastening the article in record time. A firm tug on his hands pulled him closer to her after the heavy belt fell to the floor, her back arching against his chest and her heat seeping through his robes to the skin beneath. She had just bent his thumbs into the skirt's waistband when a sudden idea struck him. “Wait,” he breathed into her ear, quickly jerking his hands from under hers. A soft kiss to the hollow behind her ear was meant to assure her that he wasn't going to run away. Not this time. “I have a better idea, my sweet.”

Had he not known her better, Obi-Wan would have expected a staunch refusal and the demand that he do what  _she_ wanted. But despite her usually exacting demeanor, Asajj Ventress could be most curious and playful when the mood struck. Thankfully for him, she was in such a mood this evening. Still, he moved slowly as if trying not to spook a gundark. 

Rather than immediately rip the fabric from her hips, he gently curled his fingers around the dip of her waist and pulled. One hand slid up her back to her shoulder and gave a slight push. Now that she was leaning forward on the counter again he could easily reach more of that wonderful flesh. He did have to take a moment to not let himself be distracted by the rather...intimate position. Asajj didn't seem too bothered by it, however. “Just what kind of idea is swimming around in that head of yours, my dear?” she chortled, making herself comfortable between the counter and Obi-Wan.

“Where would be the fun in simply telling you,” he chuckled, leaning over her to brush his mouth against the shell of her ear, “when I could show you instead?”

He started with the tattoos the adorned the side of her bald head. A gentle touch of his lips to the vibrant lines was enough to make her jump. The hand that had fallen to her hip kept her in place, the other on her shoulder sliding down her bicep. Obi-Wan grinned to himself when he heard her breath quicken as he ventured further down the back of her neck before finding the tattoos on her shoulder blade. He traced those with his lips, too, pressing light kisses into them at random.  _To keep you on your toes, my sweet,_ he thought. 

Asajj hummed under him the more he caressed her skin. He grew bolder the lower he went, the more her flesh shivered and trembled. The tip of his tongue darted down some of the designs, drawing muffled gasps and throaty moans from the deadly woman arching beneath his chest; he wondered if she could feel his heart pounding against her back. There was a dot at the center of one of the angled spirals that caught his eye. He kissed it softly, then opened his mouth to suck it between his teeth.

There was a flare of something hot and piercing in the Force followed by a startled noise from Asajj. Obi-Wan quickly pulled back. That hadn't sounded like a cry of pain, but just to make sure... “Did I hurt you, darling?”

Her gasping breaths soon gave way to an airy laugh, one that caused lightning to shoot down his spine and gather at his groin. That was new... “Ohh, my dear Obi-Wan,” she began slowly as she looked at him over her shoulder. “If you had hurt me, you'd be dead right now.” A pale hand shot out to cup the back of his head and pull him closer to her. The sharp tips of her nails scratched lightly, threateningly at his scalp. Stars, why did  _that_ turn him on? “You're still breathing, aren't you?” she finished in a whisper.

Although she was in the more vulnerable position, Obi-Wan still had enough sense to know that he was the one at her mercy. For some reason that fact didn't bother him in the slightest... “Yes, breathing...for the moment.”

The way her mercurial gaze fell to his mouth didn't go unnoticed, nor the way her own lips turned up in that wicked smile only she could make both enticing and worrisome. “Very good.” Her fingertips trailed from his head down to his cheek, those sharp tips softly combing through his beard. “Now,  _keep going_ .”

Obi-Wan swore his heartbeat doubled with those two little words. Oh, the possibilities! How far would she allow him to go? Would she let him bite her again, in the right spots, of course? Did she have any tattoos on her front that he could explore when he was finished mapping those on her back? What about under that skirt?

That last thought made his blood run hot to the point that he couldn't quite catch his breath. Blast it all, he was acting like a horny teenager! Well, one part of his mind argued, he had kept the strength of his attraction to his sultry enemy bottled up for so long it was bound to come out one way or another. At least she seemed more than willing to let him indulge in this one vice.

A firm shake of his head silenced all thoughts that didn't center on memorizing every millimeter of deep violet ink on that pale grey skin. Perhaps he could explore beyond the art if he were good.  _First things first, Kenobi,_ he chastised himself. He returned to that small dot he had left off with, giving it a wet kiss before moving down. 

His hands tightened around her waist when she began to move, a slow writhing motion that, paired with the sounds she made, couldn't possibly be interpreted as anything other than arousal. That in turn made soft moans and sighs of his own slip from his mouth as he pressed it into her warm flesh. The way she arched her back to push her backside into his groin didn't help the fire in his gut abate.

He had just made it to the curve of her waist when he could venture no further below that damn skirt. The sudden sound of her laugh, that throaty, low sound that made his skin tingle, told him that he must have let his frustration with her attire show. “I don't believe I've ever heard you  _growl_ before, my dear.” He froze. Had he really done that? “I think I quite like it.”

“I'll do it again if you play your cards right, my sweet.” The words were out of his mouth before he even realized he was speaking. Heat rushed up to his face once his words registered. He couldn't believe he'd just said that!

“Oooo, when did you learn to play like this?” One foot, protected only by the same wrappings that had covered her midriff and arms, lifted behind her to hook around his calf. It slowly slid up, then back down in a caress that left the skin under his pant leg tingling. “Have I become a bad influence on you?”

Obi-Wan kept his mouth shut. It was going to get him in trouble sooner or later, and with Asajj Ventress he couldn't afford to be so careless, in any sense. She was already physically dangerous, weapon or no, but he had underestimated the threat she posed psychologically...and emotionally. One word from her could break through a lifetime of training himself against such base feelings; the bigger question, however, was if she knew that. If she did, he could be in serious trouble.

Unfortunately, he was so wrapped up in backing himself into a corner with his words that he didn't notice when her foot shot up to the back of his knee and pulled forward. He went down, only staying upright by instinctively grabbing the closest thing...which turned out to be her velvet-clad thighs.

He tried to ignore how firm her legs felt under his hands. “What was that fo-” The last word stuck in his throat when she turned. If he'd thought her back was beautiful to look at, this view was even more spectacular. True, he didn't have a lot of examples to compare her to, but that didn't mean she was anything less than stunning.  _By the Force.._

The spell broke when that foot that had brought him to his knees landed on his shoulder. The sudden change in angle parted the front split of her skirt to expose her leg to mid-thigh. The wrappings there may have concealed her flesh, but they did little to hide the shape of the limb, slender and firm from endless hours of training and combat. “It's easier to take these off from a lower angle. Don't you agree?”

He swallowed the lump in his throat before carefully taking hold of her ankle and knee. A steady breath in and out calmed the tremble that threatened to take root in hands. Now wasn't the time to let his inexperience in these matters show. A sudden memory of something Anakin had said once flitted across his mind as he felt the dense muscle under his fingers: “Fake it 'til you make it.” Obi-Wan had never entirely liked that way of thinking, but right now it seemed perfectly applicable.

A harsh tug on his hair brought him back to the present out of his increasingly muddled thoughts. He chanced a glance up towards Asajj's face, purposely avoiding looking anywhere else for the time being. She wasn't smirking, but that smugness that had emanated from her since this whole thing started still pulsed from her. “You're thinking too much about this. Keep it up and you'll never get to see just how generous I can be.”

Well, that certainly wouldn't do. Not on the one occasion she didn't seem inclined to remove his head from his shoulders. Not on the one time he could put his expansive and illicit fantasies to rest by seeing the real thing with his own eyes. “I wouldn't dream of wasting such  _generosity_ ,” he muttered just loud enough for her to hear. 

Now she smirked, the closest thing to a genuine smile he had gotten from her so far. “Then get to work, my dear.” Her hand passed through his hair once more before removing itself entirely; he had to consciously stop himself from leaning forward to follow it. There would time for that later. Right now he had a task to accomplish first.

It took a few moments for him to find a piece of the wrapping loose enough to work with (finding the actual end was impossible), but once he had enough slack he began unraveling it from her ankle. Asajj had leaned back against the counter, her hands dangling carelessly from the edge as her weight rested on her elbows. He could feel her silver gaze boring into his head, but she wasn't stopping him or mocking his lack of technique, so she couldn't have been but so displeased.

Her foot was freed from the long strip of fabric first, the toes wiggling delightedly at their freedom. The urge to kiss those digits surged up in him for the briefest of moments before he squashed it down.  _Later, Kenobi_ , he promised himself, setting the foot back on his shoulder. Something purple peeked out from under the remaining wraps at her ankle. All of his focus went to that single point and unveiling it. His efforts were rewarded with a line of small diamonds below two solid stripes, all three curving around her ankle and drawing his attention higher to her calf. 

As he brushed his lips over those lines, Obi-Wan gave serious consideration to simply cutting the cumbersome fabric away with his lightsaber (all he had to do was call out to it through the Force and it would be in his hand). But that would cause more problems than it solved, not least of which would be the shattering of the fragile trust that had formed between him and his alluring enemy. He wasn't going to break that just because he was impatient.

And so he suffered in near-silent agony; he couldn't quite keep his breaths (nor his hands) steady and even. The anticipation of discovering more designs the further up her leg he ventured made a sharpness develop in his chest, something akin to the point of a knife threatening to pierce his skin. But the reward of supple, pale flesh, supposedly (hopefully) to lavish as he pleased, was worth it.

He had to stop when he made it halfway up her thigh. Not only did her skirt get in the way (yet again), but something had to be done about his lungs' inability to function properly. With one hand on her ankle, the other gripping the unwound wrapping, and his temple resting against the side of her calf, he closed his eyes and focused on taking deep, calming breaths.  _There is no emotion, there is peace. There is no ignorance, there is-_

“Falling asleep on me, Kenobi?” So much for regaining control of his mind and breath. “If I'm that boring, perhaps I should just leave-”

Thankfully, she stopped uttering something so unthinkable when he threw his arms around her thighs and buried his face in her abdomen. Force, the scent of her skin was just as intoxicating as everything else of her. “No, don't!” he pleaded, the words muffled against her belly. He couldn't resist pressing a kiss into her navel when she didn't argue. “Please don't. I just...I just need a moment...” He trailed off, hoping he didn't sound as desperate as he felt.

The leg that had been propped up on his shoulder had fallen to his back when he'd surged forward, and now it pulled him closer to her, her knee right by his ear. Obi-Wan almost sighed in relief when he felt her hands light on his head, those wickedly sharp nails combing tenderly through his hair. “Hush, my dear,” she purred sweetly, almost mockingly. “I was only teasing. Why would I want to be anywhere but where I finally have you on your knees?” He didn't have time to be offended, not when she tilted his head back to make him meet her bewitching eyes. “I plan on keeping you here as long as possible, Obi-Wan.”

He knew it was wrong, that he should fight this with every fiber of his very soul. But...truth be told, he was tired of fighting it. He could live with being a hypocrite just this once if it meant expelling even a fraction of his attraction to this sinful seductress. And if it turned out he couldn't...well, best not to think about that at the moment. He could hate himself in the morning if it came to that. Right now...

The remainder of those damnable wrappings seemed to fall away like water. Unfortunately, the skirt hid that pale thigh and whatever artwork it might have held. Obi-Wan mentally cursed that skirt...then remembered that its wearer had given him near-blatant permission to undress her entirely.  _Demanded_ , more like. 

As if he needed any more incentive than that, a speck of violet on her hip caught his eye. It disappeared beneath the velvet, but he'd seen it. His hands took hold of the skirt's edge, ready to rip it apart-

Asajj's leg, the one that had until now been holding him against her, slipped from his shoulder, breaking his focus. The other leg came up to rest that foot on his opposite shoulder. “Don't half-ass it, dear.”

Despite his increasing frustration with all of her clothing and the way she seemed to posses so much more self-control than he did at the moment, Obi-Wan smiled. “Forgive my lack of manners, my sweet,” he chuckled, relishing the grin she returned down at him. He made the mistake of glancing at the long line of her neck, which led down to that magnificent chest, and even further down to that toned stomach edged by flaring hips. A groan nearly worked its way up his throat. Since she was in such a good mood and had yet to deny him anything, he took a chance and flattened a hand on her navel. The way the skin there, so supple and cool under his palm, twitched fascinated and intrigued him to no end. “I seem to forget myself in your presence too easily.”

He drank in her sigh as his hand slid up her body as slowly as he could manage. The curve of one breast beckoned to him like a siren song. Three more inches and his fingertips would touch that soft, feminine flesh. Two more. One more...

“Apparently,” Asajj said quickly, grabbing his hand just before it reached its target, “my presence also makes you forget that you're in the middle of a task.”

“My apologies,” he groaned. This woman was going to be the death of him one way or another, he was sure of it. He didn't waste time with this leg; he pulled and yanked at the fabric that concealed her skin until it too fell away and joined its brother on the floor behind him. This ankle also bore purple decorations, and like their twins they received a pass of his lips. 

A throaty chuckle descended on him like a warm cloud, muddying his thoughts further yet leaving him languid. “Very good. But what will you do next, I wonder?”

Oh, she was wicked. But he could play that game, too. After all, he learned from the best. “I'm sure you have a very good idea of what I'm going to do next, my sweet.” He made sure to put as much of a growl into those words as possible. She  _had_ said she liked that. And since she was now shifting against the counter's edge, both feet planted firmly on the floor, he assumed that his tone had had the desired effect. If not, he'd find out soon enough. 

Obi-Wan held his breath as he gripped the skirt's edge once more. A fingertip brushed over that bit of purple at her hip. It stayed on her skin as he tugged the fabric over her hips, down her thighs, then finally let it drop before it reached her knees. That breath rushed out of him when he realized that she was now completely bare, completely unashamed of her nudity and the effect it was having on him.  _Witch,_ he thought fondly.

Then he saw just how far down that ink on her hip went, and all thought abandoned him yet again.

What had been visible above the waistband of her skirt had just been the tip of the iceberg, so to speak. That one led off into a half-circle anchored to a straighter line that curved around to her back, a sibling to the lines on her head that arched over her ears. But it was what lay beneath that scythe-like design that made his breath skip.

Thick lines of purple swept over the side of her buttock in a vague triangle, a single diamond at its center. The overall beauty of the design combined with such strategic placement was too much. Obi-Wan locked onto that one small spot with single-minded determination. One arm hooked around her legs to make sure she wasn't going anywhere. The other hand gripped her bare thigh to keep her still. The scent of her skin drove him on when he touched his lips to that speck of violet, quickly drawing it into his mouth like he had done with the one on her shoulder blade. This time he let the tip of his tongue dart forward.

Asajj's responding gasp and the weight of her hand on the back of his head made him pause for a beat. Her hum that followed wiped away any trepidation he might have felt. Now he let his tongue follow those purple lines in earnest, tracing every millimeter of them while trying not to get lost in the scent and taste of that beautiful grey flesh.

A low noise from above made him glance up. Those piercing, expressive eyes had closed. Her dark lips had parted, the corners turned up just slightly. His fingers tightened on her thigh at the sight, but his control was further shaken when her head lolled back with what was unmistakeably a moan of pleasure.

That did it. Force help him, he needed  _more_ .

He surged to his feet to press the entire length of his body against hers, his hands braced on the edge of the counter behind her. Her eyes shot open and he was transfixed. He'd never been so close to her, never been able to see every facet and flaw of those silver gems. Surprise shone in those pale depths for a moment, quickly replaced with burning desire. He couldn't help it; he leaned forward until his lips touched the corner of her left eye, following the stripe of violet that led towards her temple.

Asajj let out a noise he never thought he'd hear from her when he reached the end of that stripe: she giggled. It startled him enough that he pulled back. “Do my ears deceive me? Is the fearsome Asajj Ventress  _ticklish_ ?” She didn't respond, but the way she shifted her weight from one foot to the other and avoided his gaze (though that small smile still remained) was all the answer he needed. An idea that would probably result in some serious physical pain took root in his brain. What the hell. He  _had_ to try it just once. 

She jumped when he closed his hands around her waist, but he was too fast. He rubbed his beard-covered cheek against her temple, then his chin over the shell of her ear. A sharp breath pressed her breasts into his chest just before she tried to squirm away. He smiled against her ear at her reaction, but he wanted to hear that giggle again. Moving one hand up to the back of her neck to keep her head still, he went for the thin skin behind her ear, simultaneously brushing her earlobe with his beard as well. That did the trick. That lovely sound rang in his ear the longer he continued. It wrapped around his soul like a blanket. He would hold it close long after this tryst ended and he found himself alone and missing her.

A tight, piercing grip around his throat wrenched a sound somewhere between a gasp and a moan from him. Her grip wasn't hard enough to choke him, but it did sink just the tips of those wickedly sharp nails into his skin, as well as revealed something about himself he'd never thought possible: he  _liked it._ Well...that was new. 

A shiver went down his spine as those soft, plump lips brushed over his ear when she whispered, “Is that all you're going to do to me, my dear?” Another shiver, this one more violent than the last, shot through him at her tone, her choice of words. Damn her, she was so close to breaking him. And he had no desire to stop her. “I won't break, you know.”

It was the long, slow drag of her tongue up the edge of his ear from lobe to curve that undid him. It was her throaty, purring laugh at his resulting moan that turned his blood into liquid fire. He didn't remember lifting her up onto the counter; then again, it was a struggle to remember his own name when those long, powerful legs wrapped around him to pull him close. Instinct overrode both good sense and Jedi training so easily. By the Force, she could kill him where he stood and he would be helpless to defend himself. He wasn't even sure if he would want to.

“That's more like it.” Her hold on his neck tightened for an instant when he pressed himself against her at the sound of her voice. _“Again.”_

He obeyed immediately, choking back a groan at the pressure and the friction between their bodies. He took his time sliding against her, doing his best to catalog her every reaction and every sensitive point on himself. His tenuous hold on his sanity wasn't helped when her head fell back to expose the long, taut line of her throat, nor when her free hand fisted in his robes, and certainly not by the deep sound of achingly erotic pleasure that slipped past those sinful lips.

“Temptress.” The word was more growl than actual speech; he was actually surprised he managed to speak at all. He forced his body to go still so he could regain his breath and at least attempt to put his mind back in order. “You'll be the death of me, my sweet.” Oddly enough, that didn't seem like such a bad way to go if it came down to it.

The hand on his throat slid sensually, threateningly over the side of his neck and up into his hair. The light scratch of her nails on that sensitive skin made goosebumps break out on his arms and a tingle go down his back. Her other hand tugged at the collar of his tunic until it was loose enough for those talented fingers to find their way to the flesh beneath the cloth. Somehow, her eyes were both knifing and smiling when he met her gaze as she laughed, “Not yet, I won't. I'm nowhere near finished with you, Master Kenobi.”

_Stars yes, finish me, please._ That unbidden thought would have paralyzed him from the sheer force of its unexpectedness...but the deadly woman wrapped around him had already done that. He was hyperaware of her fingertips ghosting over his collarbone, shivering yet again at the barest touch of those sharp nail tips to his skin. This was torture in its purest, most dangerous form. A beating, a flogging, electrocution; he could tolerate physical violence with ease. 

But this...he actually  _wanted_ this. His more sensible side told him to fight, to run, to do something other than just stand there. But a larger part was torn between wanting her to continue her delicious torment and wanting her to finish him until he lay panting and exhausted at her feet.

Her legs tightened around his hips without warning. Obi-Wan gasped and slammed a hand onto the countertop. Control. He had to control himself. He couldn't let her win...whatever this was. Then again, he'd already lost the moment he'd allowed himself to become so obsessed with discovering the extent of her body art. She had gotten into his head, and now she'd worked her way under his skin and -dare he even think it?- was beginning to carve out a place in his very soul. If she simply asked now, he would finish her work for her and let her have him entirely in whatever manner she wanted.

He snapped out of his thoughts when she pressed those wonderful breasts into his chest and slid her hand further under his tunic. “Are you going to leave your clothes on the whole time, darling? That's a bit unfair and unchivalrous of you.” Just as he'd had no memory of hoisting her up onto the countertop thanks to her teasing, his mind went blank as his hands took on lives of their own to pull at the suddenly-rough cloth keeping his skin from hers. But her fingers, those long, slender instruments of pain and pleasure, closed around his wrists before he got too far. “Tsk, tsk. Are you truly in such a hurry? No concern at all for technique or artfulness?” A reply so dirty, so base sprang to life in his mind before he could stop it. His face colored as he stomped it down before he said it aloud and embarrassed himself further in front of this dangerous woman. She chuckled in response, but didn't comment on his blush. Instead, she simply said, “Strip for me.”

Apparently, Obi-Wan must have gone into a mild form of shock (or else her patience really had run out) because when he came back to himself Asajj's hands were guiding his over and under the fabric. His eyes fell to those hands, feeling her pale gaze searing his skull, and followed her lead almost blindly. He took over when the tight cinch of his belt prevented his tunic from opening completely, but Asajj kept her loose grip. “Slowly, Master Obi-Wan,” she purred. “The thrill of anticipation adds to the ache, wouldn't you say?”

Forcing a confidence he didn't fully feel into his voice, he murmured, “Absolutely. Permit me?”

The arch of one elegant brow and the twitch of the corner of her mouth was all the answer she would give. That was fine; it was all he needed.

His body screamed at him when he took one step back, one step too far from the softness and the heat he suddenly needed very desperately. But if she wanted a show, he would do his best to give her one. Asajj let her hands fall from his wrists and leaned back on them to watch.

A surge of awkwardness enveloped Obi-Wan as he began to undo his belt. This wasn't exactly how he'd planned on spending his evening, and he certainly wasn't experienced in these sorts of things. His face and neck burned with embarrassment and the question of if she only wanted him to do this to humiliate him...although she was the one already stark naked...and he felt no malice or mocking from her in the Force. In fact, when he glanced up as his belt fell to the floor, Asajj seemed absolutely enthralled.

She kept herself upright with one hand, while the fingertips of the other brushed up and down a pale thigh. Her eyes followed his every move, studying, memorizing. He jumped slightly when they snapped up to his face without warning. “Don't stop now,” she said, her already-smokey voice deepened with something he dared not liken to lust. Her foot came up to slip under one side of his tunic and push it aside. “Keep going.”

A deep breath cleared away some of his self-doubt, though not all of it. With the pseudo-clarity came an idea. As his fingers grasped the edges of his loose tunic, he turned slightly to one side. He didn't know why, but something about the minute change in angle gave him a confidence boost...as did the way her eyes widened and she pitched forward just a fraction of an inch. Did she think he was going to leave? After all they'd been through in these all-too-short moments? His hands were steady as a smirk blossomed on his face at the thought and he purposefully slowed his movements just to torment her.

Hyperaware of the cloth sliding against his skin, Obi-Wan felt his own heartbeat speed up as the tunic slipped down his arms. Undressing Asajj had been most...stimulating, as he imagined most things with her to be. But undressing himself had never been anything more than a practicality; removing clothing to treat wounds, discarding articles that had been damaged beyond salvation, using torn pieces as makeshift masks against dust, sand, or whatever foul stench he'd had to endure. Now, however, undressing had become something  _more._ Something almost dangerous, like a weapon he'd never known he possessed. And judging by the expression on Asajj's face just now as the fabric finally departed his body, a potent weapon it could be indeed.

If not for his greatly honed reflexes, Obi-Wan would have jumped out of his skin at the speed with which Asajj's hand shot out to him. He also would have reached for his lightsaber at the predatory glint in her knifelike eyes if he hadn't been so enthralled with the heat behind them. Her fingers had dipped just below the waist of his pants and slowly pulled him closer, a silent command he had no desire nor ability to deny. Straightening her back brought her face dangerously close to his. The feel of her breath dancing across his lips was enough to set his blood running hotter, but it was the scent of her, sharp and fragrant like that of the carnivorous pitcher plants of Felucia, that made his mind go blank and his hands twitch with the urge to pull her fully against him.

He was so distracted by the tingle her nearness caused to ripple across his entire body that he didn't register how quickly and efficiently she had undone the catch of his pants until her elegant fingers slid across his lower abdomen. The sensitive flesh there quivered under her touch, oddly gentle despite her nature, and he felt his face heat at his lack of control. Later he would think it rather silly that such a touch would make him blush when her next move was decidedly more forward and intimate.

Her hand slipped beneath his now-loose pants and took a quick, firm grasp of his cock. A startled groan and an instinctive shudder ripped through him, but her hold only tightened. Her other hand went up to grasp the back of his neck and pull him closer until her lips brushed the edge of his ear. He felt her smile against him in triumph. “Mine,” she whispered heavily into his ear, leaving no doubt as to what she meant with a stroke of his aching erection. He pitched forward to flatten his palms on the counter before he did something stupid (such as drag her off and throw her to the floor so he could more easily ravage her) and huffed into her shoulder in a vain effort to regain control of himself. The curl of her legs around his waist and the sudden warmth of her toes sliding down his backside to push his pants down ( _devious, flexible witch_ ) had the very idea of control thrown out the proverbial window. A shiver tore through him at the sharp nip of her teeth to his earlobe. “ _Mine._ ”

Despite the tightness of his throat and the dryness of his tongue, he knew that that word was one that required a response. So he gave her a single word in reply, as harsh and breathy as it was: “Yours.”

As soon as the word left his lips he felt himself being yanked forward into warm, supple flesh, surprisingly strong arms and legs holding him in place should the absurd notion of running away cross his mind. Why would he ever entertain such a thought when she was so efficiently wrapped around him and her mouth was  _finally_ claiming his with every ounce of passion as when they crossed blades?

The kiss stole his breath and caused his entire being to explode into a pillar of fire. What could he hope to do against such an onslaught of sensation and emotion?  _Give it back,_ whispered a small yet insistent voice in his head. Yes, yes that was the right...the  _only_ thing to do.

Flattening his hands on her back, Obi-Wan allowed himself to fall into the kiss until he was returning it with vigor. Oh, the sounds this woman made as he slanted his lips across hers, slipped his tongue over hers to revel in her taste. Purrs, moans, sighs, even a gasp or two; all of them only made him want to be closer, to pull more of them from her. She made no objection when he lifted her from the counter, only smiled against him before letting out an exquisite whine of need to match his tortured groan when the head of his cock brushed her wet sex. He distantly felt her hands grip his shoulders, then ripped his mouth from hers when she lowered herself onto him entirely.

Thankfully, she didn't move once she had taken him fully into her body; he didn't know if he could handle any movement right now. He leaned into her neck in an effort to catch his breath when he realized something: he could feel every quick, hard breath Asajj took not only against his chest, but through his cock. Force, it was an indescribable sensation, one that somehow assured him that this encounter was indeed real and not some vivid imagining.

Fingers on his cheek brought his focus back to the sinfully seductive woman in his arms. Long, dark lashes fluttered briefly over pale eyes now darkened with lust and desire. “Take me, Obi-Wan,” came her breathy command.

“Yes,” was all he could manage before his lips found hers again. Stepping out of his pants, he hooked one arm under Asajj's ample backside to support her and let the hand of the other slip up her back to her neck. The way her head tilted back was as much an order as if she'd said it allowed, and he more than happily obeyed. Lips and tongue worked together to take in as much of her wonderful taste as possible. The pounding of her blood under the thin layer of skin drove him on, eager to push her into as much a frenzy as she had sent him this night.

The journey to the bed, much larger than his own back at the Temple, might as well have taken an eternity. Sweat had begun to form on his skin with the effort it took to remain upright while still buried inside the woman clinging to him. Yet he pushed on, putting one foot in front of the other and pressing kisses into the slender neck bared to his attentions. When his knees finally bumped into the edge of the mattress, he set about lowering Asajj onto it, but the sudden, tight grip on his hair made him pause.

One look up at that strangely beautiful face and his unasked question was answered: she was just as far gone as he was, and the slight movement to lay her down had overstimulated her where their bodies connected. Her silver gaze was unfocused even as it met his. Her full, dark lips were parted as she tried to control her breathing to no avail. It might have been his imagination or a trick of the artificial light from the one-way window (this  particular  hotel was famous for being the first to have the specialty transparisteel installed so that guests could maintain their privacy without sacrificing the spectacular view of Coruscant), but he could have sworn there was a flush on her sharp cheeks.  _Beautiful_ .

Her voice was little more than an exhale of breath when she whispered, “Don't hold back.”

Obi-Wan pressed his fingertips into the hollow at the base of her skull, delighting at the way her back arched just so and her eyelids fluttered. Confidence had found its way back into his touches; who was at whose mercy now. “As you wish, my darling.”

Whether she allowed him control or not was irrelevant. This game they had been playing was no longer about who would break first, or who would be on top. Now it simply _was_. Laying her down on the plush bed, soft light illuminating her skin until she practically glowed, Obi-Wan no longer cared about who and what they were outside these walls. Everything that didn't involve the touch of her hands on his skin, the grip of her thighs on his hips, and the perfect, wet heat that enveloped his most sensitive flesh fell away. Their dance was now one of exchange, of giving and taking pleasure until they were both gasping for air.

He nipped at her earlobe, she tugged at his hair. He gave a hard thrust into her, she arched her lithe body against him. He bit and sucked at her achingly pert nipples, she let out an exquisite moan that threatened to undo him right then and there. There was a brief moment, however, when he became so overwhelmed that he must have slowed his pace too much for her liking; she closed her teeth around his throat and gave a hard suckle until he yelped. “Don't stop,” she huffed against his pulse. “Don't-” she gasped and shivered oh-so-beautifully at a sudden, minute change in his angle “-don't stop.”

Obi-Wan was hard pressed not to obey; who would have ever guessed that those two little words, breathlessly tumbling from the lips of one of his deadliest enemies, would be enough to drive him to the brink of his sanity? Something had begun to shift within him with every thrust, every obscene, wet noise of their joining that backed the music of Asajj's moans and his responding breaths and growls. Although it had certainly been a long time since he'd allowed himself physical pleasure, this was more than just the building of what promised to be a powerful and wholly satisfying orgasm. And the look in Asajj's eyes when she met and held his gaze confirmed that she was feeling the same thing.

He took one of her hands in his and pinned it to the mattress beside her head, carefully lacing their fingers together as if to drive home the importance and painful intimacy of it all. She ran her free hand through his hair for a moment in response, then slipped it down his sweat-slicked back to press him closer with every well-timed thrust. Her thighs tightened around his waist, the push of her feet on his backside driving him deeper inside her molten heat.

“Together.” He wasn't aware of the word forming in his brain before it fell from his mouth in a breath.

The way her lips turned up in a smirk shouldn't have been able to turn him on even more, and yet his skin tingled and burned even hotter at the sight. “Come hard for me, my dearest.”

Mere moments after he'd claimed her mouth in another bruising kiss at those words, he felt it: the Force opened up around them both, making every nerve alight with fire and tripling every sensation to the point of pain. Their energies seemed to merge into one until there was nothing left but shared pleasure. He could feel and see himself through Asajj's eyes, as he was sure she could him. Everything flowed through him and into her, and vice versa. The feedback loop of their energies was more than enough to push him over the edge and spiraling into ecstasy. It was only the grip of her fingers, so slender and strong in her own release, that kept his mind from flying apart completely.

When it finally passed and he could remember the mechanics of breathing, he felt a twinge of regret in his breast. That certainly had been one of the most intense, exhausting, utterly satisfying releases he'd ever experienced, but in the midst of the sensory overload he hadn't been able to appreciate Asajj's own orgasm. He suddenly remembered the woman beneath him and hurried to remove his weight from her. The clench of her fingers, still entwined with his, and the bite of her nails in the small of his back didn't let him get too far, however. “Don't you dare,” came her hoarse, breathless command. “Stay...put for a while.”

Obi-Wan couldn't very well deny her when his own body screamed at him to stay within her as long as possible. But he did adjust himself on his knees in an effort to keep from crushing her with his weight. He tried to calm himself with deep, meditative breaths, although the afterglow of both their shared orgasm and whatever had joined them together even more deeply through the Force was making it damn difficult. Even more so when Asajj began to gently nuzzle her face into his neck.

Her breath across that sensitive skin made him shudder, a groan escaping him before he could stop it. Her fingers loosened their death grip on his to lazily play with his hand, stroking his wrist with her thumb and his palm with her fingertips. The hand on his back also joined in, caressing his flesh in slow circles, taking care to examine every scar they encountered with utmost gentility. Well, now. Asajj certainly was lax and languid in the aftermath of such brutal intensity. That was something he hadn't been expecting, but wholeheartedly welcomed and reveled in.

“Something on your mind, my darling?” he whispered only half-jokingly against her cheek before kissing the deep purple line leading from the corner of her mouth under her chin.

“You've had your chance to explore me,” she said, her voice husky and deep and sending a thrill down his spine at the sound. “Only fair I return the favor, yes?”

Obi-Wan pulled back just enough to meet her eyes. There was a challenge and a fire in those pale depths, to be sure, but also a sincerity that made his knees go weak. “I certainly agree,” he replied with a smile and a tightening of his fingers in hers; he was getting very used to that intimate gesture. “Shall I get dressed so you-”

His teasing words stopped short when he suddenly found himself on his back and ten very sharp nails digging into his chest just enough to keep him still. “Not on your life, my dear.” Asajj painted such an alluring picture just then: still glistening with sweat, dark tattoos made even darker by the way her pale flesh glowed in the ambient light from the cityscape outside, fire burning bright in her hypnotic eyes as she looked down at him. Force, how had he never stopped to appreciate her ethereal beauty before now? “I quite like the way you are now.”

He couldn't resist teasing her just once more. “Is that your way of saying you're too impatient to undress me the way I did you?” He ran a hand up one thigh on the last word, tracing the lines and whorls of ink that painted her skin there.

A gasp of surprise followed by a grunt of pleasure ripped through him when she raked her nails down his torso to his navel. Part of him hoped to bear the marks they left behind well after they left this room. A rather large part, actually. “Is that a complaint I hear, Kenobi?”

Now was his turn to surprise her: the sudden rise of his knees behind her pushed her forward and down onto his chest, his arms going around her to keep her there. “No complaint at all, Asajj.” Oh, he loved how she trembled against him when he traced the edge of her ear with his nose. “When would you like to start?”

Callused, possessive hands came to rest on either side of his face as her eyes bored into his. “Right now,” was all she said before she slipped her tongue between his lips and licked inside his mouth until he moaned.

The galaxy hadn't crumbled yet tonight, so what was another few hours to let this enchanting, deadly woman have her way with him again? He looked forward to having her touch and examine every inch of him, to being able to anticipate the Force's movements she he could enjoy watching and listening to her shatter in his arms again.

He'd make up a decent story about his whereabouts later; whatever this was between him and Asajj was theirs, no other's. It was that rare moment of possessiveness that had him writhing beneath her, eager for her to begin her exploration and bring him to the edge once more. He only hoped he'd be able to remain conscious in the aftermath...or at least wrapped in her arms if not.


End file.
